Finding Grace
by Lone Panda
Summary: Annabelle Rivers, a spunky Ravenclaw now in her third year at Hogwarts, takes a trip down memory lane one rainy afternoon. Because dealing with your fellow third year crush can be a pain in the arse sometimes. Oneshot. Set in Harry's first year. FredXOC


**AN: Hola! This is my first story. But you can probably already tell that by yourself. Anyways, I just decided to write this story because I love the Weasley twins. And Fred's not really dead. He lives on in the stories we post and in our hearts. Simple as that. Also, for you 'Stick to the books' kind of lovers, sorry in advance to you if my characters are 'Mary-Sues', or 'Out of Character', but this IS a place where we have the power in the writing. Our imagination. So, if you read it and didn't like it, too bad for you. Sorry I wasted your time, but it hasn't killed you to read my story.**

**Alright. I'm gonna stop rambling now, so read on!**

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"For a girl whose name means 'grace', you're not very graceful."

Columbia looked down in amusement at her friend Annabelle, who was sprawled on the ground with quills and rolls of parchment strewn around her. Annabelle answered her with a glare.

Columbia held up her hands in surrender and gave a sheepish smile, "I didn't have anything to do with your fall, so don't give me that look!"

"Here. Let's get you up before someone like Snape or Filch comes along," She held out her hand to her best friend.

Annabelle gratefully took her fellow Ravenclaw's hand and heaved herself to her feet. Dusting herself off, she began to gather her belongings that had tumbled out of her bag when she fell.

"You know, I bet if _he_ were here he would have helped you up and started fawning over you right about now," Columbia said, glancing at her friend with a sly smile on her face.

As she expected, Annabelle dropped the quill she was holding, blushing furiously. "S-Shut up," she stuttered. "He doesn't like me like that. He doesn't even know I exist." She whispered the last part with a hint of sadness.

Her best friend looked at her sympathetically. "It's alright. His brother doesn't even know I exist, either."

Annabelle smirked, putting all of her stuff back neatly in her bag and tossing it over her shoulder. "Listen to us. Oh, woe is me!" She flung her hand dramatically to her forehead.

Still smirking, she let her arm drop back to her side. "Let's head back to the common room instead of feeling sorry for ourselves. We can tell each other our life stories later." Turning on her heel, she started walking down the hall.

Columbia stood where she was for a few seconds, blinking. Then she grinned, and, brushing her honey colored hair out of her green eyes, hurried after her friend.

* * *

"Pleeeeeeeeeease?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I have an essay to finish, and so do you."

"But that's going to take forever!" Columbia protested. "Why can't we go take a walk outside instead?"

"_Because_," Annabelle huffed, closing the book she had been studying from, "this essay is due in two days and you haven't started it either!"

"What's your point?"

Annabelle groaned. "I have no idea how you got sorted into Ravenclaw. You have no initiative to work whatsoever."

Columbia jumped off the couch they were currently sitting in front of the common room's fireplace, "But nobody has initiative to do work besides you and that Granger girl!" She paused thoughtfully, "And perhaps Percy Weasley. But he doesn't count because he's a git."

Annabelle smiled. "True," she admitted.

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put off that Transfiguration essay until the last minute. Later!" Columbia waved to her friend, and then disappeared from the common room.

Annabelle sighed. Her friend wasn't exactly the type to stay still for more than a few minutes at a time. She smiled fondly at the thought of Columbia running across the grounds wreaking havoc. Most likely she was torturing that insufferable first year, Draco Malfoy. Annabelle chuckled, then went back to her work. But as she looked at the words she had written so far, she realized she couldn't concentrate and most likely would not be able to. With another sigh, she let her thoughts wander to her memories of her first year. More specifically, to the first time she met Columbia and the Weasley twins.

_**Flashback**_

An eleven year old Annabelle was hugging her mother and father goodbye on the platform. When her crying mother released her, she hurried to the train. Hopping on, she looked out to wave goodbye to her parents as it rolled out of the station.

Turning from the window, Annabelle felt a rush of anxiousness. Her parents were what witches and wizards called muggles, non-magic folk, so she didn't know any other kids on the train. Walking down the aisle, she tried to summon her courage to knock on the door to one of the compartments. Stopping in front of the one on her left, she raised her hand, trembling with nervousness, about to knock on the door when it flew open and something, or some_one_, hit her head on. She and her attacker tumbled to the floor, a flailing mass of limbs. Looking up, Annabelle saw a girl about her age, with honey brown hair and large, forest green eyes.

Her 'attacker' studied her with equal curiosity. The girl she had run into had dark brown hair, almost black, really, with the most startling blue eyes she had ever seen.

The two stared at each other for a few moments, until the honey colored hair one spoke.

"Hello," she said, getting off of the girl under her and helping her to her feet. "I'm Columbia, Columbia Sherman." She shook the other girl's hand.

She smiled, "Nice to meet you, Columbia. My name is Annabelle Rivers."

Columbia grinned. "Great! I've made a friend already!" She turned back toward the door to the compartment.

"Yeah," Annabelle said softly. "Friends."

_**End Flashback**_

_'That was it_,' Annabelle thought. '_Nothing flashy, just simple_.' She rather liked it that way.

The sound of a continuous tapping on the window snapped her out of her reverie. She looked toward the glass and was surprised to find it was raining outside. Moving her gaze toward the clock, she was shocked to see she had been daydreaming for nearly half an hour. Shaking her head, she tried to get back to work, but found her thoughts kept wandering back to the past and the Weasley twins...

_**Flashback**_

Yawning, first years Annabelle Rivers and Columbia Sherman sleepily made their way to the Great Hall for their breakfast. It was the start of their second week, and the girls had been very happy when they discovered they were in the same house: Ravenclaw. They were even more delighted when they got their schedules and found they would have all of their classes together. They had quickly become the best of friends.

Sitting down at their house table, they piled their plates with all the food they could reach. Satisfied they had enough, they were just about to dig in when a voice behind them interrupted.

"If you're not careful, you won't be able to get back up once you've eaten."

Turning round, they found a boy with fiery red hair and a face full of freckles. Glancing around, they realized they were the only ones in the Great Hall, besides a group of fourth year Slytherin boys.

Annabelle had a hurt expression on her face, while Columbia glared. "Are you calling us fat?" she demanded.

"You said it, not me."

The girls jumped about a foot in the air. They turned back around quickly to see... the same boy. Confused beyond belief, they looked back and forth between each boy, until realization struck like a ton of bricks; they were twins. Now that they thought about it, the two boys looked identical to the last freckle. Seeing their expressions, the boys grinned with delight.

"Look, George, they've figured us out," the first twin said.

"Blimey, Fred," the second twin, George, replied. He made his way around the table to his twin. "Took them long enough."

"Excuse me," Columbia rudely interrupted, "but who in the world are you?"

The twins grinned, and held out their hands. Hesitantly, Columbia took Fred's while Annabelle took George's.

"We're Fred and George Weasley," Fred said.

"Masters of pranks and mischief," George added.

"Pleased to meet you," they chorused.

After a second of the twins looking at them expectantly, Annabelle spoke hesitantly. "I'm Annabelle Rivers, and this is my best friend-"

"Columbia Sherman," Columbia cut her off.

"Glad to meet you," Fred said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"It was nice chatting with you, but we're very hungry, so we're going to make our way over to our table to eat now," George said in a rush.

Before the girls could even get a word out, the boys hurried off to the Gryffindor table, each with a facial expression of nervousness mixed with giddiness.

"What's their problem?"

"No idea," Annabelle shrugged, turning back to her porridge.

"They're strange," Columbia remarked suddenly, also turning back to her breakfast. They were about to tuck in when-

_BAM!_

Annabelle's porridge exploded, sending it flying. It ended up caked onto her face and in her hair, much to her dismay. Columbia looked at her in astonishment.

"Annabelle, wha-"

_BAM!_

A second explosion rang out, this time from Columbia's plate. Her pancakes were blown to bits, and her eggs were no longer sunny-side-up, but scrambled. Syrup had made its way into her hair, and Columbia was trying very hard to control her anger. The group of Slytherin boys were howling with laughter, clutching their sides and banging their fists on the table.

Columbia stood up. "You think this is _funny?_" she began hotly. "Why you-" She stopped, though, when Annabelle put a hand on her arm.

"No," she said quietly, her voice trembling. Turning to her friend, Columbia was surprised to see she had tear tracks running down her face, parting the porridge. Columbia would have laughed if she weren't so angry.

"It wasn't them," Annabelle said, pointing at the Slytherins. "It was them."

She pointed her finger accusingly in the direction of the Weasley twins. Their faces were screwed up from laughter, and they were on the floor, holding onto their sides for dear life. Annabelle actually thought they were going to die laughing until they stood up, still snickering.

Fred, chuckling, pointed at Annabelle, "You've got a little something on your face there, Annabelle."

George, too, joined in, "Don't worry, I hear it's good for your complexion."

Hot tears of embarrassment, distress, and anger fell from her eyes, blurring her vision slightly. The twins stopped laughing abruptly when they saw that she was crying. They looked at each other uncomfortably.

"Hey," Fred said frantically, reaching out to comfort her. He stopped when Columbia sent him a touch-her-and-you-die glare.

"Don't cry," George said nervously. "It was just a prank. A joke. We just modified some Filibuster fireworks to go off after a set time. Then we slipped them in your food. No harm done..." He trailed off awkwardly.

"Right. A joke." Annabelle spoke flatly. Then she turned, and without a backward glance, ran from the Great Hall. She wasn't feeling that hungry anymore.

_**End Flashback**_

The current Annabelle was frowning at the memory. She hadn't liked the Weasley twins much after that. It had taken her half an hour to get all of the porridge out of her hair, and another fifteen to make sure there wasn't a trace of it left. Columbia hadn't been so lucky. It had taken her a good hour and a half to get every last drop of syrup out of her hair, and even then bees were flocking to her in swarms for a week.

Annabelle winced. She hadn't spent all that much time with Columbia when that happened. She was allergic to bees, and didn't fancy ending up in the hospital wing with a face the size of a watermelon.

Fred and George had apologized the day after the incident, and the girls had accepted, albeit Columbia had only done so very reluctantly. Annabelle had a strong suspicion that their older brother Charlie had made them. After that, she didn't see much of the Weasley twins, other than the occasional prank or two. They weren't very good friends, more like... acquaintances.

The only other time she had really talked to one of the twins was last year...

_**Flashback**_

Annabelle, now in her second year, was in the Hogwarts kitchens, sobbing quietly as house elves surrounded her, offering handkerchiefs of various sizes and insisting she would feel better after having a cup of tea and something to eat.

She waved her hands to shoo them away, saying she was fine. But she wasn't. Her mother had just had a miscarriage, and her father had owled her immediately. As she read the letter, tears had fallen down her face to stain the parchment. She could tell her dad had been crying when he wrote it. After she finished reading it, she had shoved it under her pillow, mumbling an excuse to Columbia who was sitting on her bed reading a book. For once, Annabelle wanted to be alone, and it was only a few minutes later that she had found herself in the kitchens, the one place she could think of to get away.

Annabelle let out another sob and buried her face in her arms resting on the table. She and her little sister had been so excited to learn it was a boy. They had always wanted a brother. And now that dream had been ripped from them like a band-aid ripped from a wound.

Still sobbing, Annabelle didn't hear the quiet footsteps coming toward her from behind.

"Annabelle?"

Startled, she whipped around, her eyes wide. Standing there, looking awkward, uncomfortable, and very much out of his element indeed, was Fred Weasley.

Annabelle let out a quiet sniffle and rubbed furiously at her eyes. She didn't need to look up from her sulking to know that Fred was now sitting beside her.

"Er-" he began somewhat awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. She could tell he didn't have the first inkling on how to comfort a girl. She waited for him to continue, however.

"Er, you shouldn't cry, you know. I don't like crying girls much." He winced at his choice of words, then backtracked quickly. "That is, to say, not that I don't like you. Of course I like you." He blushed, then fumbled again for his words. "Not that kind of like, I mean, that is to say-" He would have kept on rambling if Annabelle hadn't come to his rescue.

"Fred," she said, a hint of a smile on her face, her tears now dried and her eyes red and puffy. "Fred, you have no idea what you're doing, do you?" He blushed magenta red and looked at his shoes, muttering incoherently. She continued on, "It was very sweet of you to try, of course. I'm feeling better already."

He looked at her and she flashed him a smile. Satisfied, he heaved a great sigh of relief. "That's good. Made a right fool of myself there, I did." He hopped off his stool, and she mimicked his action.

They made their way out of the portrait of the fruit bowl in silence, and it wasn't until they had climbed a flight of stairs that she asked him something that had been on her mind.

"Fred, what were you doing in the kitchens in the first place?"

Fred started, then seemed to look everywhere but her for just a second. His expression told her he was highly uncomfortable. But then it transformed into a blank look and the moment was gone so quickly that she thought she had imagined it. He smacked his forehead and muttered a curse that made her say _"Fred!"_

"I was going to nick food from the kitchens for me and George! I plum forgot about it!" He grinned cheekily at her. "Hope you can make it to your common room without my protection!" And he was gone so fast she didn't have time to blink.

Shaking her head, she trudged up another flight of stairs. Turning the corner, she saw a familiar red head hurrying towards her.

George looked worried. Coming to a halt in front of her, he immediately asked her something she had not been expecting.

"Have you seen Fred?"

She looked at him in confusion, a sense of suspicion rising in her stomach. "He said he went to the kitchens to nick you and him some food," she said slowly, her eyes narrowing.

George's expression of worry switched to one of confusion. "What? But he wasn't-" He broke off and paused for a moment. "Oh," he finally said. "Oh yeah."

He didn't sound at all convincing; he seemed to realize this, too, because he ran down the hallway to the kitchens, shouting a hurried good-bye.

_**End Flashback**_

Annabelle never had figured out why Fred had been in the kitchens; it was obvious he had been lying to her.

Needless to say, they had been much better friends after that little meeting. She and Columbia occasionally helped in their pranks, along with the twins' friend and fellow Gryffindor, Lee Jordan.

Sighing, Annabelle looked toward the clock once more; she had completely wasted at least an hour daydreaming. _'Well,'_ she thought, getting up from the couch and popping her back, _'what's a few more?'_

Heading out of the common room, she decided she would take a walk around the school. She passed amazing things everyday on her way to her classes, but didn't have time to stop and take a better look for fear of being late.

Taking a stroll down a corridor lit with floating candles, she marveled at the paintings and at the intricate designs on statues lining the walls. As she wandered the castle, occasionally coming across something that would catch her attention, she thought about how that one meeting with Fred Weasley was enough to make her develop a crush on him. Of course, that was only what started it. After they started hanging out together, it grew with the little things; the way he looked after Quidditch practice, flushed and happy; the smile he gave her that made the corners of his eyes crinkle with happiness; how he always seemed to be optimistic, even when Snape took points from Gryffindor because Fred and George had slipped Filibuster Fireworks in his cloak; even when Fred called him a git behind his back when he was still in earshot and ended up getting a detention.

Yes, Annabelle mused, stopping in front of a familiar portrait of fruit; it was safe to say that she loved everything about Fred Weasley.

* * *

Tickling the pear, Annabelle entered the kitchens and was not surprised to find two redheads stuffing their faces with the many delights the house elves cooked for them. Deciding to give them a shock, she snuck up behind them.

"You know, you're probably going to regret eating all that food when you're in your forties."

Both of them jumped, to her satisfaction, and turned around, surprise etched on their faces. Crumbs littered their faces and the front of their robes. Both had stuffed their mouths so that they resembled a pair of comical chipmunks.

She looked them over and wrinkled her nose. "Do you do anything else besides pulling pranks and putting a hefty dent in the kitchens' food supply?"

"Memf foo," George replied, spraying what vaguely looked like cake everywhere, so that Annabelle had to jump to the side to avoid needing a bath.

She gave him a look of disgust. "Don't talk with your mouth full, you great lug. Swallow first."

It took the twins at least a minute to chew and swallow before Fred answered her. "He said 'We do'."

George smirked. "Yeah. You forgot sleeping."

Annabelle rolled her eyes, taking a seat across from them at the counter. "You're right, I did. I also forgot Quidditch practice, getting detention, acting moronic..." She counted them out on her fingers. "Need I go on?"

Fred eyed her. "Oh dear, George. It seems our little Annabelle has developed a sarcastic side."

George grinned and got up from his stool. "I dunno about you, Fred, but I'm leaving. One can only take so much sarcasm from a girl in a day." And with a last wink sent in Annabelle's direction, he was gone. But not before swiping a last slice of cake.

Turning from where his twin disappeared, Fred shoved a whole muffin into his mouth. He was reaching for another one as he spoke. "Momf, mut wrings moo mere?"

Annabelle watched him shove the muffin down his throat and reach for a third. "Assuming you said 'So, what brings you here?'... Oh, just taking a trip down memory lane. My feet sort of brought me here. More specifically, I was thinking about last year when we were here and I was crying. You remember?"

Fred choked on his muffin. Coughing, he pounded his fist into his chest. Concerned he might up and die on her from lack of air, Annabelle slapped his back.

When he recovered, he managed to croak out a few words. "Yeah, I remember." Reaching for a goblet of pumpkin juice, he took a great swig before continuing. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I'd like to know the truth. You weren't really there to swipe food. So why where you there?" She looked at him pointedly.

Fred looked down at his feet, his hair hiding his face. For the next few minutes they stayed like this, him staring at his feet and her awaiting his answer. Finally, when Annabelle had begun to think he wasn't going to answer her, he lifted his head to meet her stare and cleared his throat. "I, uh, sorta followed you down there. You seemed to be in a hurry, so I decided to see what was up." He finished, and she noticed a pink flush to his cheeks.

Looking at him in confusion, she said, "But how did you know that I had even left the common room? We weren't supposed to be out of bed, and I would've heard you following me."

He gave her a wink. "That, my dear Annabelle, is a story for another time."

She still wasn't completely satisfied with his answer. There was one more thing she wanted to know.

"But why did you care?"

He looked surprised. "Merlin, you're a nosy one, aren't you? But I guess that's Ravenclaws for you."

Annabelle rolled her eyes. She seemed to be doing that a lot more lately. "Merlin, you're a blunt one. But I guess that's Gryffindors for you."

Fred smirked. "Touché." Then his face turned serious, "Why wouldn't I care? You were crying."

She looked at him as if he were stupid. Then again...

"Look," he sighed, then leaned forward. "I may be a prankster, but I'm not _completely_ insensitive. You were hurting, so I was there for you."

Annabelle blinked. She had always thought of Fred as just that, a prankster, not capable of feats such as sympathy and sensitivity. But it seemed she was finding out something new about him everyday. The thought made her smile.

Seeing her smile, Fred decided it was about time he got to have a question answered. Grinning, he said, "So, Annabelle, since I've answered all of your questions, it's high time I have one of my own answered."

Leaning her head on her hand, she raised an eyebrow at him. "And which one is that?"

Copying her movement, he smirked. "What do you think of me?"

In answer, Annabelle rose from her seat and walked around the counter to reach him. Watching her carefully, Fred let a faint look of surprise grace his facial features when she stopped in front of him. "What are you..." He trailed off when she leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. For the second time in the last half hour, he felt his cheeks redden.

Strolling to the portrait, Annabelle turned back to him and smirked. "You'll find out in due time, Weasley," she said softly. Giggling, she rushed out of the painting and down the hall, Fred stumbling after.

"This doesn't change a thing, you know," he shouted, running to catch up to her. "I'm still putting dungbombs in your cauldron next week!"

Laughing and turning a corner, she called back to him. "I wouldn't have it any other way!"

* * *

**AN: And there we are. Not much, but I'm happy with it. Much thanks are in order for my absolutely AWESOME beta reader, _SalingAwaySoftly_. You rock, and I'm glad you took the time to proofread and make suggestions. It really helped!**

**I would love it if you left a review. Any kind is allowed, I don't really care if you flame, leave a critique, or whatever. Just share your thoughts and opinion. If you don't leave a review, I don't mind that either. Just thanks for taking your time to read it, and it's a bonus to me if you enjoyed it and left a review!:)**


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